


Going Around This Roundabout

by parallelanprincess



Series: Sugar, We're Goin' Down [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Canon Queer Character, Coming of Age, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parallelanprincess/pseuds/parallelanprincess
Summary: Pamela Isley just wants to make it through her freshman year of college with as little fanfare as possible. Johnny Crane is having none of that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegoodlannister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegoodlannister/gifts).



Pamela Isley met Jonathan Crane at the beginning of the semester when he walked into her Women in Literature class fifteen minutes late carrying his books in a burlap sack and smelling like a mixture of incense and weed. He was the only male in a classroom of ten women who stared at him as if he was lost. Pamela had chosen to sit in the back, surrounding her with a sea of empty desks. To this day, she doesn't know what possessed him to sit directly next to her. When Professor Rich started lecturing about the influence of Jane Austen on modern day romantic comedies, Crane pulled out a legal pad and started taking notes in purple gel pen. Pamela committed herself to ignoring the weirdo for the remainder of her college years. She was there for an education not to make friends. The following class she made a point to sit in another isolated seat in the hopes that Crane wouldn't follow. Not only did he have the nerve to show up late again, he sat right next to her.

“Hey,” he whispered as Rich droned on about Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's courtship. Pamela continued to stare straight ahead. She was not in the mood for some half assed flirtations from some burnout. College boys only ever wanted one thing and when they didn't get it they turned all bitchy.

“Rosie,” Crane continued. “Rosie, you want some Skittles?”

“My name's not Rosie! I don't want whatever drugs you're selling,” Pamela hissed. She hated all the nicknames people gave her just because she had red hair. Her RA insisted on calling her Gingerbread and at least one professor dubbed her Pippi Longstockings. Who was dumb enough to try to peddle illegal substances in the middle of class? She hoped Crane dropped out before the end of the semester.

“Drugs? Really, Rosie?” Crane cackled. His laughter sound the slightest bit manic. He raised a bony hand to his face to try to keep quiet. Professor Rich didn't notice as she began explaining the Female Gaze.

“I meant the actual candy. But if you want to get crazy I might know a guy.”

Pamela sighed and held her hand out. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could get back to learning. Crane's grip was gentle as he grabbed her hand and poured the rainbow colored candies. His crooked grin did nothing to reassure Pamela that she wasn't about to swallow hallucinogens. Her mother warned her about taking things from strange boys. She shoved the confections into the pocket of her jeans. She'd throw them away later when he wasn't around.

“Thank you. Now if you don't mind, I have notes to take.”

Crane laughed again. When he started scribbling on his legal pad Pamela noticed that he had chosen a green gel pen for the day. At the time she didn't know that Crane was offering her an olive branch. Arkham University was a tough place to survive without friends. Crane was an outcast by choice, refusing to adhere to social standards in favor of his own comfort. Pamela was unconsciously isolating herself. Too scared and suspicious to let anyone in, it was going to be a very long four years. Fortunately, Johnny was very experienced in breaking and entering.

Pamela and Crane, no, Johnny, as he insisted she call him, fell into something of a pattern. She showed up to class five minutes early and reviewed her notes from the previous lesson. The other girls give her the cold shoulder as they prattled on about celebrities she never heard of and shows she didn't watch. Professor Rich walked in, took attendance, and then attempted to educate them about the nuances of the Brontë sisters or the hidden messages of _The Scarlet Letter_. Pamela listened intently for the sound of Johnny stumbling into class five to ten minutes late. Professor Rich glared at him, Johnny just flashed her a roguish smile before plopping down next to Pamela. He always came bearing food of some sort which they ate with complete disregard to their professor's syllabus policies. They answered questions, turned in homework, and mocked their classmates' habit of wearing skirts and crop tops in the middle of fall. They became friends in the way that anyone forced to spend one hour in one another's company twice a week were bound to be.

\---

It was the announcement of the midterm exam that deepened their acquaintanceship into something more.

“Cram session at my place?” Johnny suggested as the rest of the class filed out.

Pamela was curious about what kind of hovel Johnny lived in. A rat's nest of bongs and empty beer cans no doubt. She knew he lived somewhere off campus. His frequent tardiness was attributed to bad traffic. You had to go the speed limit when driving with a suspended license. Pamela didn't remember the last time she left campus, the library and coffee shop being her usual haunts. Midterms ensured those places were going to be louder, noisy, and messy as everyone and their RA tried to jam eight weeks of knowledge into 48 hours of review.

“If it's alright with you. Should I bring anything? Chips, soda,cookies....” Pamela trailed off. It was the first time anyone invited her out. Back in high school, she stuck to herself and that hadn't changed since coming to Arkham University. She didn't know the proper protocol for being invited to someone's house. Maybe she should bring a plant? No, that was for housewarmings not staring at notes with your weird pseudo-friend.

“Cookies sound nice. Don't bring any Oreos though. Eddie hates those,” Johnny repliedchecking his watch.

“Shit! 'M late for work. Look I gotta go. Pick you up at the library around eight. Don't be late, place is a no parking zone and campus security is already on my ass.”

As Pamela watched Johnny jog away she wondered who the hell Eddie was. Part of her wanted to buy Oreos just to see the mysterious person's reaction. She decided against it when she saw how much they costed at the campus convenience store. Tuition was already astronomical, this was blatant extortion of broke and starving college students. She made a mental note to ask her mother to put more money into her account following one of their mandatory weekly phone calls. If the woman insisted that Pamela 'find a nice boy and get married' the least she could do was fund her education. Her mother seemed convinced that Pamela's sexuality was merely a phase. As if Pamela was going to wake up one morning and suddenly decide that being a lesbian was going out of style. The things one had to put up with if they wanted to get through college without loans. Pamela put the matter in the back of her mind. She grabbed a box of Chips Ahoy and headed towards the register. Maybe she could talk about it with Johnny later that night.

\----

The Ghoul was the most aptly named vehicle Pamela had the misfortune to ride in. The dark brown pick up truck looked like something out of a horror movie where the villains were cannibalistic hillbillies and the innocent virgin didn't make it to the credit sequence. It's moniker was spray painted on the passenger's side door in thick grey that wove between the dents and scratches that peppered the truck's exterior.

Johnny drove with little regard for the rules of the road. Nothing less than a red light or a police car in an adjacent lane could make him stop. The Ghoul heralded from an era when vehicles were built to last, anything it hit would be instantly flattened. Pamela considered herself lucky it was manufactured after seat belts became a mandatory feature. That didn't stop Johnny from throwing a protective arm around her when he turned a particularly sharp curve.

“Lean back, Rosie. We're almost home,” Johnny said. Home turned out to be small house in the suburbs. The lawn was well kept, the windows weren't boarded up, and it bore no outward resemblance to a crack den. The rest of the houses seemed to similarly be in good condition. Bad neighborhoods were something Pamela never had to worry living on the beachfront in Coast City. Gotham however was notorious for being the crime capital of the East Coast. If not for Arkham's extremely generous scholarship she'd be going to a nice little community college a few miles from home. Standing on Johnny's front porch waiting for him to unlock the door, Pamela found she had no regrets.

“Yo, Eddie! You in here?” Johnny called as he stepped inside. He tossed his burlap sack on the couch and gestured for Pamela to do the same with her book bag.

“Eduardo, my love I'm home and I brought cookies.” As Johnny descended further into the house, Pamela decided to make herself comfortable. The living room was tastefully decorated with a few pointed plants by the windowsill. The couch was comfortable and the mysterious stains were par for the course. A stars and stripes patterned bra hanging off of one of the arms raised a few questions. Namely about how every girl Pamela met was stacked higher than her mother's expectations. There was an entertainment stand housing a flat screen TV and a collection of gaming consoles, a book case that seemed to be a mix of psychology books and those trashy harlequin novels. Needless to say, this was not what she pictured Johnny's place would look like. Clean and organized weren't the first things that spread to mind when she thought of her friend.

She had a friend now.

Weird.

Johnny eventually reappeared with a scowling Asian man. His long black hair was tied in a ponytail and he wore a set of green pajamas decorated with purple question marks. He looked as if Johnny had literally dragged him out of his bed. Johnny had an arm slung around the man's shoulders, he was smiling wider than Pamela had ever seen.

“Rosie-posie, this is the love of my life Eddiekins. Ed Nygma, I present to you the lovely Pamela Isley.”

“Charmed,” Ed yawned. “Jonathan says you two are classmates, I am so sorry for whatever he's put you through.”

“I'm not that bad,” Johnny pouted.

“Darling, you are an absolute menace to society.” His words lacked venom. Ed gave Johnny a sheepish smile, he had that fond look in his eyes that Pamela only saw in cheesy romantic comedies.

“Alright, I get it. Go back to sleep, old man. The young folks have studying to do.”

“I might as well make dinner since you woke me up with that half assed blowjob. How do you feel about chicken? Don't answer that, we're having chicken. Pamela, would you like a cup of tea?” Ed asked.

“....Please?” Pamela spent the rest of the night trying not to think about Johnny's fellatio skills or lack thereof.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off the title comes from the song Tongue Tied by Grouplove. Second this was a giftfic for thegoodlannister, but I eventually hit a writer's block but found it complete enough to warrant posting. As for my desire to no longer have WIPs I'm not posting anything until it is 100% complete. This fic was roughly three weeks of one and off again writing and stands as the most I've written for any one story without abandoning it.
> 
> This is part of the "Downverse" because I figured, if Bruce isn't Batman and this universe is happy and stable, then what happened to the villains?? So, all of Batman's Rogues get to have true love, a good education, and friends. Everyone is bros and nothing hurts. Welcome to the 'verse where we keep the angst to a minimum because goddamnit if life doesnt already suck.
> 
> Please comment and kudos plz


	2. Chapter 2

The Crane-Nygma household was collections of contradictions. The house belonged Dr. Hugo Strange, head of the psychology department and Johnny's academic adviser. Strange was offering them an excellent bargain on the rent under the condition that Johnny maintained a certain GPA. Certain he'd burn the place down if left to his own devices he placed an ad for a roommate on Craigslist. Thus Jonathan Crane met Edward Nygma and the two entered into a love-hate relationship for the ages. Edward was orderly, uptight, and pretentious. Johnny once wore the same shirt for three straights days because he couldn't be bothered to do laundry. An argument over whose turn it was to do the dishes somehow led to a make-out session against the refrigerator. Opposites truly did attract.

Even with Ed's income from his job at the campus library and Strange's discount, the couple still struggled to make ends meet. A second Craigslist ad was placed albeit one that was better written with more stipulations. Edward put up with Johnny's shit because he loved him, anyone else was going to have to toe the line or end up on the street. They'd specified wanting a fellow student from their university: Quiet, owned no pets, tidy, and male. Harleen Quinzel fit none of those standards. But she paid in cash and her rabbits didn't smell that bad. Harley was taking nursing courses at Thompkins Community College and working the night shift on the pediatrics division at the local hospital. She dyed her hair every two months and woke them up every morning with the sounds of whatever Broadway musical she was currently obsessed with. On the rare nights they had dinner together, Ed looked from his boyfriend to his female roommate and felt _things_. Things like comfort and compassion and love. Things that made him give them a break for forgetting whose turn it was to cook dinner and led to Edward making meatloaf at two in the morning.

Ed was observant in addition to being indulgent. As an English major he was trained to read between the lines, to pick up on the subtext that everyone else missed. He noticed many things about Johnny's new friend Pamela. She was lonely, a trait far too common with most college students. She had a green thumb judging by the way she brought his cactus back to life after too much watering and not enough sunlight. Pamela was studious and focused in a way that Ed admired. She let Johnny get away with far too much but seemed to be fairly belligerent to anyone else she encountered. As the semester wore on, she visited frequently bearing snacks and stories about Professor Rich's sheer incompetent. How that woman was allowed to teach the next generation was a mystery for the ages. Johnny took that class just to spite him, Ed was sure of it. Pamela was far too bright to waste her time in that poor excuse for an elective.

Another thing Ed noticed was Pamela's interest in the distaff. Whenever they were faced with a fairly attractive waitress or hostess, Pamela lost the ability to speak in complete sentences. Johnny was constantly pointing out various girls in the quad to her. From what Ed gathered she was raised by a fairly traditional mother and oh didn't that bring back such found memories of Central City and all the joys of growing up in the Midwest. He never pressed the issue but he didn't stop Johnny from helping her create profiles on those horrid dating websites. The fact that he met his partner on Craigslist did nothing from his commendation of those one stop shops for one night stands.

“You're a bad influence on Pamela,” Ed said one night. They were lying bed, neither of them in the mood for anything more intimate than cuddling. Spring break was approaching and there would be plenty of time for them to make the beast with two backs later.

“Don't know what I did but I'm sorry,” Johnny replied not sounding the least bit remorseful.

“She needs to find her own way. You can't keep throwing random girls at her.”

“Okay, first of all they aren't random. I did a lot of research to make sure they were into chicks. And by research I mean I spent a lot of time on Facebook scrolling through their albums. Sorority girls may be evil but they take the best selfies.”

“I pretty sure that constitutes as stalking,” Ed sighed. “I'm worried that you're putting too much pressure on our dear Rosie. I don't see you giving trying to push Harley into a relationship with anyone.”

“Harley's barely around. She's always at work or in class or- _Ohmygod_ Ed you're a genius!” Johnny said. He practically fell out of the bed in excitement as he squirmed in delight.

“I know I'm rather gifted, darling but a little elaboration would be appreciated?”

“Harley! She's single, Rosie's single. It's the perfect solution! They've never even been in the same room together because Harley's always gone. But if we put them together, sparks are bound to fly. Where is my phone? I need to text Rosie. Dammit Ed, move your ass.”

Johnny lightly spanked him as he leaned over Ed. Ed rolled his eyes in the darkness. He had to open his mouth and give him another bad idea. Pamela and Harley were complete opposites. He was positive the nurse would scare Pamela off as soon as she caught sight of those two toned pigtails. Harley was always willing to go along with Johnny's mischief so it was highly likely she'd agree. At least Ed would be around to run interference in case shit hit the proverbial fan. Worst case scenario the four of them have a terrible misadventure they'd all look back on and laugh about one day.

It's a dinner because of course it is. Johnny decides they should all get together for an old fashioned Sunday dinner. That meant fried chicken, rice, and a whole lot of other things that will be clogging Ed's arteries for the rest of his life. Let the record state that Jonathan Crane was the only good thing to come out of Georgia. Harley had the night off and Johnny managed to coax Pamela away from studying for a finals.

“You have at least a week left before things get serious. Need to get some sunshine so you can grow up big and strong like me,” Johnny said, waiting outside of Pamela's dorm room. Cobblepot Hall was easily the worst of the residence halls. The bedrooms barely fit two twin beds, the communal bathrooms were filthy, and the fire alarm in the kitchen was prone to going off at random. Legend went that the dreadful residence hall was named after one of Gotham's most prominent families as payback for the Cobblepots questioning the sanity of the school's founder, Jeremiah Arkham. Fittingly the psychiatric wards in every Cobblepot owned hospital was referred to as the Arkham Wing. At least the Wayne family had the decency to only put their names on things they actually owned. Historical significance aside Cobblepot Hall was cheaper than dirt, Pamela literally couldn't afford to turn her nose up at it. Her mother was only willing to put up so much money as Pamela had refused to go to her mother's alma mater. She was saving a portion of her scholarship in the hope of buying her own car one day without having to deal with her mother threatening to take it away over some minor infraction.

“Crane, you weigh less than me and you can barely lift that thing you call a book bag.” Pamela locked the door behind her. She lived alone now. Her roommate Lisa Snart having left college due to financial reasons. They hadn't been close but Pamela did find herself playing music more often to drown out the silence. Johnny and Ed were kind enough to let her hang out with them. She sincerely hoped it wasn't out of pity.

“My sack does all the same thing your fancy ass purse does. Got everything? The Ghoul's low on gas so I can't turn around if you leave something.”

Pamela nodded. She followed Johnny out of the residence hall. Students moved aside to let them pass. Johnny's unusual demeanor spawned a few rumors about his extra curricular activities. Coming to class perpetually late and high as a kite didn't help. His reputation suffered but his GPA put him on track to graduate with honors. She admired his confidence and carefree attitude. As she climbed into Johnny's beloved metal death trap Pamela found herself wondering what life would have been like if she'd taken a different class. No visits to the coffee shop with Ed, no sharing a jar of Nutella with Johnny in the back of class. Well, they said college was all about forging relationships and new experiences.

“Rosie, can I ask you a question?”

“For the last time, I do not want a joint.”

“One time. I ask you one time when you're freaking out about an assignment and you hold it against me. Excuse me for being a good host. I wanted to know about your dating life or lack of.”

“No, I'm not having a threesome with you and Ed.”

“Again, that was one time! Ed gave me an earful. Slept on the couch like an animal. Just sayin' if there was a girl who was interested in you maybe you should give a try. Hypothetically of course.”

Pamela stared at Johnny. His eyes were focused on the road, his fingers drumming nervously on the wheel. He was wearing a dress shirt and slacks. He'd told her to dress nicely as well and to try out the makeup she bought last time they went to the mall. Not to mention he was rather tight lipped about why Ed wanted to host an impromptu dinner party.

“No...Johnny, no! Tell me this isn't what I think it is. Please tell me you and Ed are not setting me up on a blind date.”

“It's not a blind date. It's more of an...introduction. Oh god, put your seatbelt back on.”

Pamela was in the process of unlocking the door when Johnny gently pushed her back against the seat.

“Rosie, I need you to calm down. We are in the middle of traffic. If you die, Ed will kill me.”

“I'll die if I have to go through with this. I'm terrible at small talk, this makeup makes me look like a hooker, and my hair is the color of a pumpkin. No girl in her right mind give me a chance. I'm some sort of freak of nature. And my teeth, I knew Mom should have sprang for braces. My gap is the size of the Grand Canyon. This is going to be a disaster. It already is. For the love of all that is sacred, you take me back home this instant.”

“Yeah I would but-”

“But what?”

“We're here already.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed is Japanese because we need more diversity in comics and this is my fic so you can do what I want. For reference his appearance is based on how he looks in The Batman series. You know the one where Joker had dreads and Ed looked like a Marilyn Manson cosplayer.


	3. Chapter 3

Pamela spent five minutes fussing over her appearance in the Ghoul's rear view mirror. Her eyeliner was sharp enough to kill a man. Girls like that right? Homicidal beauty queens? Thank goodness she decided to wash her hair last night. She reapplied her chapstick for what was probably the third time. Her lips got chapped when she was nervous. Girls don't like kissing crusty lips. She adjusted her bra and hoped that the padding would make her look more feminine and not like she taped two pillows to her chest.

“You done or are you gonna pull a new ass out of that purse too?” Johnny snickered, leaning on the steering wheel.

“Pretty sure I caught Ed peeking through the curtains. Food'll be cold if we wait out here any longer. Relax, Rosie. Harley is the least judgmental person on the planet. Either it's love at first sight or you have a new bestie. Everything will be fine. Me and Ed won't let anything happen to ya.”

Pamela took a deep breath. She was okay. Everything would be okay. If all else failed she could hide in the Ghoul until Johnny stopped laughing long enough to drive her home. Without warning Johnny had left the Ghoul and was in the process of unlockinge front door. Pamela scrambled to follow him, nearly falling face first out of the truck in the process. By the time she reached the entrance, Johnny was arguing with Ed about being late.

Pamela ignored them and looked for her date. The living room was empty as was the kitchen. Ed had set out four place settings. He even went to the trouble of having a basket filled with rolls in the center of the table. How someone so thoughtful was dating Crane was a mystery for the ages. Opposites truly did attract. What was Pamela's opposite? Someone who didn't spend every moment overthinking everything. Someone who had a sense of humor and not crippling insecurities.

“Penny for your thoughts, Rosie-posie?” a voice asked behind her. Pamela nearly jumped out of her skin. That was a girl's voice! Harley was standing right behind her. No need to panic. Act natural and turned around slowly. Do not cry.

“Just admiring all of Ed's hard work. He really has a knack for domesticity,” Pamela responded. She turn around slowly and nearly fainted. In front of her was the most attractive woman she'd ever seen. Blonde hair with crimson highlights was tied into a messy bun. Harley wore an oversized t-shirt that proclaimed her exotic snake was uninterested in anyone with a flat ass. The shirt did nothing to hide that her breasts were as perky as the smile on her face. Pamela could die in peace knowing that angels existed and walked the either.

“Tell me about it. He's like a little housewife. Oh my god, have you seen the latest episode of Real Housewives of Central City? Sue Dibny was about to slap Jean all the way back to Metropolis! I cannot wait for next week, Jean has had it coming for a loooong time. You can't just question a woman's marriage in her own condo. Besides, Jean and Ralph are getting divorced so what does she know? Not a thing except how to throw shade on Twitter. Oh, I'm Harley by the way,” Harley said. She reached out to shake Pamela's hand, her fingers alternating hues of red and black. Pamela didn't watch much television but she was willing to revise her stance on reality television if it meant having something in common with Harley.

“Pamela, it's very nice to meet you. Your hair looks nice and so does your face. No wait I didn't mean that-You do have a nice face though! It's very...symmetric?” Pamela finished lamely. She shook Harley's hand fully aware of how sweaty her palms were, her chewed off fingernails in stark contrast to Harley's pedicure.

“Why thank you! I watched a lot of makeup tutorials to make that happen. Cat Grant is a genius, such a shame she quit YouTube to be a reporter. I mean I like her but not enough to read the boring ole news. It's all full of sad times and articles on how the world is doomed and millennials ruined the economy and stuff. Working at a nursing home was terrible. All the old guys watched the news religiously and their opinions were so last century. But that's another story for another day.”

Harley spoke at a mile a minute. Pamela struggled to keep up. They took seats at the table as Harley told her about the kids she worked with, the classes she took, and the rabbits she adored. In return Pamela relived stories of Johnny's unceasing sarcasm in class, the difficulty of finding vegetarian options on the campus dining plan.

“You better not be talking about me,” Johnny said as he walked into the kitchen with Ed in tow.

“Not today but maybe tomorrow,” Harley laughed. “Word on the street is that somebody fell asleep in class.”

“ It was Ed's fault for keeping me up all night in the first place. I refuse to let my title as The Supreme God of Smash Bros go undefended. Princess Peach demands blood. Her royal highness will not be denied!” Johnny slammed his hands on the table. Harley rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Um, what's a smash brother?” Pamela asked weakly. Johnny and Harley stared at her in shock. Harley placed a hand over her mouth and looked scandalized. Johnny raised his head to the heavens as if to ask God what atrocity had just occurred.

“Rosie, in this house that game is sacred. How have you lived all these years without the glory of watching Nintendo characters punch each other in the throat? How did you survive without knowing the joy, the pain, the indignity of one of the greatest fighting games of our generation?”

“I spent a lot of time reading?” And being friendless but that was beside the point.

“It's settled, we're having a Smash tournament. Right now. Dinner is canceled.”

“The hell it is,” Ed hissed. He had been busy fixing their plates, he laid a selection of steam vegetables, rice, and mash potatoes smothered in gravy in front of Pamela.

“Don't worry, dear. I made sure to make it vegetarian for you,” he said gently.

“Jonathan if you ignore this food I slaved over a hot stove for, I will castrate you with a butter knife. Now sit down before it gets cold. You can play your silly games later. Preferably after you help me wash the dishes.”

The food was delicious. Pamela found herself wishing they'd gotten together earlier. Watching Johnny and Ed take turns bickering and fawning over each other was wonderful. Johnny would be spoon feeding Ed one moment and flicking peas at him the next. Harley was similarly mischievous, taking bites off Pamela's when she wasn't looking. Her indignation was met with a flutter of eyelashes and a grin. The whole meal Harley's leg bumped against hers, Harley's leggings rubbing against Pamela's bare legs. It shouldn't have made her heart race. Watching Ed clasp Johnny's hand firmly in his own Pamela resisted the urge to do the same with Harley. Yet, she knew that Haley wouldn't mind.

After a brief dessert of homemade brownies Harley gave Pamela a crash course in Smash Bros while the boys cleaned the kitchen. Harley's fingers constantly brushed against hers as she taught Pamela the complicated controls. They managed a few practice rounds before Johnny reappeared with soapy hands and a declaration of war. It was quickly decided to have a battle of the sexes among the group of friends. Ed and Johnny dubbed themselves the Gotham Knights while Harley and Pamela were the Sirens. The pairs alternated between who played and who cheered for victory over all others. Pamela's initial nervousness was displaced by Harley's sheer enthusiasm. She was no match for more experienced players yet Harley's support was unwavering. A little after midnight, the Gotham Knights decided it was time to retire for the evening.

“I'll bring out the spare blankets for you, Pamela. I'm afraid the couch will have to do,” Ed said.

“Nonsense Rosie can sleep with me. My bed's a queen size. I can introduce her to my babies.” Harley interjected.

“Is that alright with you, Pamela?” Ed asked. He was offering her a chance to politely decline. An opportunity to turn down Harley's offer without offending anyone. Ed was sweet but he was being a total cock blocker.

“Sure. It'll be like a sleepover.”

So goes the story of how Pamela Isley found herself wearing one of Harleen Quinzel's nightgowns and staring at a large cage filled with two noisy rabbits. Harley's bed was soft, her blankets smelled faintly of vanilla body wash. Pamela watched the gentle rise and fall of Harley's chest as she snored loudly. A thin line of drool ran down her chin and Pamela swore she could put Sleeping Beauty to shame.

Pamela's future would involve a dozen more sleepovers, a hundred good night kisses, and at least one impromptu wedding ceremony. For now, she was content to drift off to dreams of roses and harlequins.

 


End file.
